Settle Down (I'm Terrified)
by MrJamesileee
Summary: That damn Stella Kidd had to go meddling and put some thoughts into Brett's head. Thoughts of a beautiful paramedic that Brett was already scared of getting too close to. Eventual Brett/Foster (if Brett can get her head out of her ass).
1. Chapter 1

_So there's a lot of Brett/Foster love on the internet but seemingly no fanfiction. I intend to change that. This is still brewing in my head but I would love some input. I'd also love my fellow Brett/Foster fans to write some fic! Let me know how it's going. Thanks._

"Everything okay?" Stella asked suddenly, smacking Sylvie in the back of the arm and sufficiently knocking her out of the daze that she didn't even realise she was in.

"What? Yeah!" Sylvie yelped, startling. "What's up?" she asked, looking around the locker room awkwardly and awaiting an explanation from her best friend.

"Why didn't you tell me, you little slut?!" Stella said, wide-eyed and full of excitement, almost bouncing on her feet as she sat next to Brett.

"Tell you what?!" Brett gasped, looking around again to find they were (still) alone.

"Were you _ever_ going to tell me?" Stella asked, more quietly this time, disappointment creeping into her voice.

"Stella, I have NO idea what you're talking about," Brett told her plainly, the look of confusion on her face contradicting the nervous pull she suddenly had in her gut.

"Oh, god," Stella said, shocked. "You actually have no idea what I'm talking about." she asked, bewildered.

"I just said that," Sylvie chuckled.

"How long have you and Foster been hooking up?" Stella asked in a mere whisper, not as astounded by the look of surprise and terror on her best friend's face as she should have been.

"What?!" Sylvie spat, eyes roaming the empty room once again. "Where did… why would…" her head shook back and forth as she stuttered, unable to ask the question. "Why would you think that?!" she whisper-yelled finally.

Stella's brow furrowed solemnly as she sunk back into herself. She was as confused as Brett was upon having been asked the question. What?

"So you're not…" Stella asked, Sylvie's genuine reaction enough to prove that she wasn't covering. "But…"

"But what?! Why would you even ask me that?" Sylvie's breath had become heavy and her heart rate increased dramatically. Even though it wasn't true, it was still a terrifying concept. A concept that she tried to block from her mind.

"It just seems like—"

"Seems like _what_?!" Sylvie squeaked, wild-eyed.

"Well, I mean, how many nights have you spent with her this week?" Stella asked calmly, trying to get her friend to see her point of view without sending her into cardiac arrest.

"I have NEVER spent the night with her!" Brett said, too loudly, feeling her face warm and flush with blood.

Stella rolled her eyes obviously.

"Okay… evenings," she threw her hands up. "Semantics," she shrugged. This was turning out to be more difficult than she expected.

"Um…" Sylvie trailed off, obviously counting and trying hard to hope that the number was smaller than it was. "Like, four?" she shrugged like it was no big deal.

"Okay," Stella nodded, taking in the math. "And that doesn't seem like—"

"Like what?!" Brett snapped again, eyes wild as she tried to calm her heart rate to no avail. "I've spent evenings with you this week, too," she defended weakly.

"Yeah, we met up at Molly's like, twice. _With_ Foster," Stella told her.

"Are you jealous, Stell?" Brett joked, poking her friend in the ribs and trying desperately to change the subject.

"Ha! Don't try to change the subject on me! I just wanted you to know that you could talk to me about it, ya know?"

"Nothing to talk about," Brett said sternly, standing from the bench and looking anywhere but at her friend.

"But if there _was _something to talk about…"

"Stella? There's not. Foster is my friend. Yes, we hang out. Just like you and I hang out. There's nothing more to it," Brett breathed out, suddenly wondering how much of her own story she believed.

"Do you think _she_ thinks there's more to it?" Stella asked quietly, moving her head until she was in Sylvie's line of sight.

"No, Kidd. Foster has a different date every other night. She's definitely not interested in me." If Brett heard a hint of disappointment in her own voice, she ignored it.

"Maybe she dates a lot because she hasn't found the right person yet," Stella shrugged, rising from the bench as well.

"I'm sure that's true. But she will, eventually. And it won't be me," Sylvie assured her.

"Why do you sound kinda sad about that?"

Brett walked out of the locker room, away from her friend, without responding.


	2. Chapter 2

(secon_d installment. Beware: drama ensues. This probably won't be a terribly long fic, less than ten chapters before I can complete what I wanted to get across. Please comment, positive or negative, and let me know how it's going. I've written a lot of Brett and Kidd but never Foster until now. I need to know if I'm getting her voice across well. Thanks for reads and reviews. I aim to please. )_

It was NOT the day for down time, Brett decided as she sat alone in the common room, watching a hockey game that she didn't care about. She might have liked the Blackhawks by default, from growing up in Indiana, but her heart certainly wasn't in it. She stared at the screen dimly as the players flowed across the ice. Under normal circumstances she would be following the game pretty closely (but not as closely as ninety-nine percent of her housemates, who were currently in the truck bay competing over _something._)

Sylvie was not generally the type to hope for a call. She never wanted anyone to be in danger but she couldn't help but love the adrenaline that a save created within her. She was wishing for a call right now, unable to shake her mind from the fog that Kidd had caused and hoping for any distraction.

"Damn you, Kidd," Brett said quietly, not realizing that it had been aloud and rolling her eyes at her own over-analysis.

"Geez…." Stella chuckled, approaching without Brett noticing just in time to hear her childish whine. "What'd I do?" she asked, plopping onto the couch next to her friend casually, completely unaware of Brett's inner turmoil.

"Nothing," Brett said firmly, shaking her head and turning her eyes back to the game.

"You don't usually just damn people for fun," Stella joked, having not thought about their prior conversation since it had occurred and not linking Brett's mood to it.

"I just hate you sometimes," Sylvie told her with no bite, more distress behind it than anything.

It hit Stella. Not one part of her thought that Brett could still be upset about their conversation this morning. There was no reason for Brett to be upset about it, unless…

"Still mad about what I asked you?" Stella asked calmly. "You know I didn't mean anything by it, Brett. I was only askin' because I care," she told her seriously, finally causing Brett's eyes to reach her own.

"I know," Brett admitted. "I just don't know where you'd get that idea, like, at all," she breathed out, frustrated more with herself than anything else.

"Ya know, I see things. I _feel _things too. I thought my best friend was keeping a secret from me. I just wanted you to know that you didn't have to," Stella explained, trying to work a little harder on her wording, this time.

"But I _wasn't_ keeping a secret," Brett pleaded, only a quarter of a lie. (No, she and Foster were not 'hooking up' or anything near that, but she maybe, accidentally, had thought about it a time or two in the past few months.)

"I get that now. I'm sorry I pushed. I guess I just saw something that wasn't there?" Stella said as though it was a question, hoping it would lead Sylvie to communicate more.

"I guess so," Brett practically grumbled, staring back at the hockey game, expressionless.

"You ladies are missing all the fun out there!" Foster exclaimed, busting through the door from the truck bay energetically. "Otis had Cruz in a head lock for forty-four whole seconds before Joe almost ripped his arm off," she chuckled, rounding the back of the couch, leaning her arms on it. "And where have _you_ been all day, pretty girl?" she asked Brett with a smile, ruffling the blonde's hair.

Foster didn't have a good view of Brett's face from behind and it was a good damn thing. Kidd turned to Brett just in time to see the bright blush colouring her cheeks. Brett chuckled, covering a gulp and looked back toward Foster.

"Just watching the Blackhawks game," Brett shrugged casually, acting like the feeling of Foster's hand wasn't burning a hole in her scalp.

"Oh, cool. Who're they playing?" Foster asked, hopping over the back of the couch and sitting next to Brett nonchalantly.

Dammit. Brett had no idea who they were playing. Well, she had at one point but completely forgot in her state of thought. The crickets began to get awkward. Stella, sensing Brett's fumble, stepped in in classic best friend fashion.

"You goin' to Molly's with us tonight, Foster? We got a DJ…" Stella sang happily, watching as Brett stared off into space, embarrassed and scared into silence.

"Nah, I got a date with the new Fed Ex chick. I think I'm just gonna take her to a pizza joint or something, though. I'm not really feeling it," Foster shrugged, relaxing her head on the back of the couch.

Brett's emotions as she replayed Foster's words in her head built and built until she felt like she was going to explode. And then she did.

"Seriously?!" Brett practically yelled, sitting up and turning to face Foster in an instant. "What the hell is wrong with you? You go out with different people almost every other night and now you're going out with a girl you don't even like?! You're _not_ damaged enough to act like this, Foster. Or _are _you?"

Brett stood, adrenaline rushing through her, and stomped out of the common room, through the truck bay and away. The boys looked at her with concern as she stormed past them but were too caught up in their game to stop her.

Stella and Foster remained on the couch, a Sylvie Brett sized space between them, wide-eyed and speechless. They weren't looking at each other, seemingly afraid to, silent for so long that it got weird. Stella felt like she should say something, make up some excuse for her best friend's behaviour, but she had nothing. There was absolutely no rationality to Brett going off and she couldn't defend her right now.

Foster was in shock. To say that Brett's outburst was out of character was definitely an understatement. She had seen her partner go off on people before, when it was relevant. But this…

"What was that?" Foster asked nearly inaudibly, blinking hard and looking at Stella out of the corner of her eye.

"I have no idea," Stella said, even though she _did_ maybe have an idea.

"I didn't know she felt that way about me. She's never said anything about me dating people before. I thought…" Foster sighed, slamming her eyes shut and looking near tears. "I thought she was my friend," she concluded sadly. "I thought…"

"She IS your friend, Foster. I swear. I know she really cares about you. Maybe she's just worried?" Stella offered weakly, feeling the build up of guilt in her chest.

"Worried about what? She's never acted like that before, even subtly. Did I do something to upset her?" Foster asked, weak and defeated.

"No…" Stella began, already regretting it. "I think this might be my fault," she admitted, looking to her lap.

"Why would it be your fault?" Foster laughed dryly.

"Well, um," cough, "I, well I thought that the two of you were hookin' up, and I may have asked her about it this morning…" Stella squinted hard as she awaited a reaction.

"You thought Brett and I were hooking up?" It came out of Foster's mouth so softly that Stella almost missed it.

Stella nodded and rolled her eyes.

"I mean, I guess that's stupid," she laughed off. "It just kinda seemed like you've been spending a lot of time together. And you haven't really been goin' out with anyone else lately," Stella defended her assumption, scratching her face nervously.

"So Sylvie got pissed at _me_ for going on a date when she was actually mad at _you_ for assuming we were together?" Foster asked, disbelieving. "How's that work?"

"I don't know. I think maybe she's been thinkin' too hard about it, since I brought it up," Stella's voice remained flat though her heart certainly was not.

"She was probably disgusted that you thought that," Foster said directly, distress evident.

"No!" Stella swore, putting her hands up. "No, not at all!"

For a moment Stella was disappointed that Foster could think that about her best friend: Brett was not judgmental in any way, but after the way she had just acted it could be easy to be confused.

"Brett wasn't upset like that, at all," Stella continued, suddenly wondering how far away Sylvie had run. "She just, overanalyses everything, you know?" she tried to keep her words vague.

"So now she's worried that I _want _to be with her?!" Foster asked loudly, unable to keep herself from feeling like this was a personal attack.

"No!" Stella exclaimed, not realizing the words that were about to automatically fly out of her mouth. "I think she's worried that _she_ wants to be with _you_!"

Foster's eyes went wider than they ever had, her mouth dropping open. She had known that she had trouble reading people sometimes. Now she realised that she was a complete idiot.

Stella closed her eyes and wished to disappear. She had not meant to divulge that information. She didn't even know with certainty that it was true. This whole day and possibly a really great work partnership had gone to shit and it was entirely her fault.

(Okay, it was a little bit Sylvie's fault too, for going the hell off, but Stella only felt her own guilt right now.)

There was no way to recover this situation now.


	3. Chapter 3

_Sorry for the drama but the peace and love will pick up quickly. I love this pairing and I find it hard to believe that there wouldn't be some turmoil before they both get to where they need to be. Thanks so much for the reads and reviews. I would love more input. I hope you enjoy this even though it's a rough few chapters. Thanks again._

Nearly three hours had passed with not so much as a wellness check, let alone an actual call. Once Brett had returned from her (three-time) walk around the block, she decided she had to get to work, if only selfishly. Her mind was racing, flooded with guilt, embarrassment and residual anger (chalking it up to jealousy was not something that she could admit just yet). She had taken inventory of the ambulance twice, though no calls had come in and nothing of their stock had changed, and began to scrub down the vehicle. As long as she was focused (and not anywhere near Foster) she could pretend the afternoon's events had not occurred at all.

Brett was relieved and surprised that she hadn't come across Foster or Kidd in the hours since her outburst, unsure if she was glad to not have to face it yet or terrified that they both hated her now. Of course, they did. Foster, at least. The woman had every reason to never want to speak to her partner again, professionally or otherwise. The insulting, judgmental words that Brett had spoken had repeated in her own head enough times in the last few hours that she couldn't help but hate herself too.

She called Foster 'damaged', when she honestly thought just the opposite. That was part of Sylvie's problem, she realised: she thought Foster was _better_ than how she acted in her romantic life. That was judgmental enough in itself though, wasn't it? Brett was never the type to judge others or become engrossed in their business when it didn't involve her. Foster's love life had _nothing_ to do with Brett. Sylvie realised, finally, that was where her true issue stemmed. She _wanted _to have a say in who Foster dated, (or who she didn't date, as it were). She wanted to feel relevant and for Foster to feel worthy of real love and not just casual dates in order to protect her heart.

Brett sighed aloud, leaning back onto the bench in the back of the ambo, her presumptuousness getting the best of her. Why did she assume that Foster was damaged, or protecting herself from pain? The woman had never said anything (even privately) about fear of commitment or of getting attached. Why did Brett assume that Foster wasn't perfectly happy with her very casual dating? She certainly seemed to be. She didn't seem _damaged_ at all, and it only bothered Brett more to realise that this might be the life, the hit and run approach, that Foster truly enjoyed.

Sylvie rested her head in her hands in sorrow as she realised that what she thought, how much she felt, didn't matter at all, especially now.

A shuffle at the back door of the ambulance caused Brett to sit up quickly, roughly brushing the tears from her eyes before she saw Foster leaning into the doorway suspiciously (wondering why the doors were open, Brett assumed- but she had done enough assuming today).

"Ah, nevermind," Foster said quietly, putting her hands up almost in defense as she backed away from the occupied vehicle.

"Foster, wait!" Brett called before she noticed that the words were out of her mouth.

"Naw, I'm good, thanks," Foster spat, walking toward the bay doors more quickly than she knew.

Kidd's words (her assumption about the situation) had gotten to Foster much more than she would have liked. She had spent the last three hours pretending to sleep in the bunk room replaying the entire scenario. No matter what Kidd may have assumed, one thing mattered most: Foster did not allow herself to be disrespected. Whether coming from a simple colleague, a friend, or a potential lover, Foster would not be spoken to in such a way. To feel that disdain, that judgment from someone that she respected and truly cared about was unacceptable, regardless of the underlying reasons. Even if Kidd was right and Brett was overthinking their friendship, it was _not _okay for someone to treat another person in such a way, even if they didn't fully know why at the time.

"Foster, _please_," Brett begged, walking fast enough to catch up with her partner just outside the truck bay. "I need to explain."

Foster could hear the tears in Sylvie's voice and tried like hell not to let it affect her.

"I think you already explained it all, hayseed. What I don't understand is why this hasn't come out sooner. You disagree with me? With my life choices? Whatever. But why wait until now to tell me? I wouldn't have let myself get so close to you if I knew how you felt," Foster admitted, more emotionally than she would have liked,

"I didn't mean what I said, Emily. I swear. I didn't even know the words were going to come out of my mouth until they already had and I wished like hell that I could take them back," Brett admitted, a lone tear running down her cheek.

"You didn't realise you were gonna say it? All that means to me is that your judgment is built in. I knew you were from bumblefuck Indiana but you never seemed like you were _part_ of it. Today you definitely proved that you are," Foster told her, not allowing her tears to fall as Sylvie practically chased her around the perimeter, desperately wishing to be close enough to look the woman in the eyes so that she could see her sincerity.

"Emily, I didn't _mean_ it! It's not hate and it's not judgment. I felt overwhelmed!" Brett nearly shrieked, never having felt so desperate in her life. "I would never judge you, or think badly of you. Please believe me…" she trailed off as tears streamed down her face, uncontrollable at this point.

Foster had stopped and turned to look at Brett as the blond woman's tears began to fall. Bad timing.

"It's not hate? It's not judgment?" Foster asked, all bite and anger out of her voice and replaced with true pain. "You could've fooled me, Brett," she rolled her eyes. "My partner, my _friend_ should never speak to me like that. If you respected me at all, you wouldn't have."

Brett gulped down a few mouthfuls of tears before she had the ability to speak again.

"You're right," sniff. "I should never have spoken to you like that. But it doesn't mean that I don't respect you. That I don't care about you. I might care _too_ much," Brett admitted as her heart beat violently in her chest and she continued to swallow her tears instead of let them fall. This was not about her. This was about Foster, her partner, her _friend. _

Emily nodded, blinking hard to hide her own tears. Despite anything, she couldn't stand to see Sylvie in pain, especially now that she was realizing that Stella might just have been right in her assumption. Emily Foster would not be disrespected but she wasn't a monster, either.

"Shift's almost over, Brett," Foster said, trying to ignore the tears that she sniffed back mid-sentence. "I can't talk about this anymore."

Brett nodded sadly, turning to walk away as a new wave of tears hit her. Emily reached out to barely touch her elbow before she got too far.

"But I _will _be able too," Foster admitted, almost angry at herself for caving. "Just not right now."

The relief on Brett's face was minimal but apparent, chancing a glance into Foster's eyes. Foster just nodded in response, dropping her hand from Brett's arm quickly.

"I hope you know how sorry I am," Brett said nearly inaudibly, looking to the ground, ashamed.

"I do."


	4. Chapter 4

Sylvie stared down into her beer bottle as though there was something very interesting floating around; there wasn't. She had been at Molly's for just over an hour but it was still her first beer of the evening.

"You look like someone kicked your puppy," Stella said unapologetically, watching her friend sulk.

"I hate that phrase," Brett said simply, no emotion creeping into her eyes, which remained on her bottle.

A quirked eyebrow and look of question led Brett to elaborate, once she finally looked up.

"If I had a puppy and somebody kicked it, I'd kill them."

"Who wouldn't?!" Stella exclaimed loudly but sincerely.

Sylvie just shrugged, too encompassed with the day's events to be committed to any conversation. That is what brought her to a dark table in the back of Molly's with only Stella Kidd in her atmosphere.

"Why don't you hate me?" Brett asked sadly, taking a big drink of her beer and returning her eyes to the table.

"Brett?" Stella asked seriously, waiting for Brett to look at her before she continued. "Why would I hate you? I didn't have anything to do with today, you know that," she reasoned, though rationality was not helping Brett at all right now. After her outburst she found herself wondering if she truly knew what rationality meant.

"Because you're my best friend. You should've never seen that part of me. I didn't even know I had that part until today, and now I hate myself. I can't decide if I'm more upset that Emily is upset with me or because I know I deserve it," Brett breathed out, motioning to Otis that they needed another round.

"Because you know you deserve it," Kidd answered plainly, knowing her friend all too well. "Of course you're hurt that Foster is upset with you but you're more hurt that you HURT Foster," she shrugged as though this was a conversation she had daily. "I used to get that with Kelly a lot. He'd be pissed at me and of course I hated it, but I hated that he had a REASON to be even more. I knew when it was my fault. And I'm sorry, friend, but this is totally your fault."

"What do I do?" Brett asked sadly, picking up her second beer and taking a hearty gulp.

"Well, you said she wanted to talk, right?"

"No. She said she WOULD talk, but not right now," Sylvie corrected with a sigh.

"Well that's better than nothin'," Kidd shrugged, sipping her beer. "She could've told you to never speak to her again. She could have said you aren't friends anymore. Talking eventually is better than never talking again."

"You're right," Brett told her, eyes brightening. "She could have told me to go to hell but she didn't. I would have."

"Yo I would have too," Stella threw out quietly but honestly.

"So does that mean I still have a chance?" Brett asked, eyes filled with hope at the realization.

Silence fell over the table as Stella sipped her beer, watched her doe-eyed friend, and tried to keep her mouth shut. It was clear that Sylvie was awaiting a reaction but Stella was pretty damn sure that the reaction she would have was not the one that Sylvie was looking for. It became awkward, Sylvie staring into Stella's eyes in anticipation, her friend saying nothing.

"Well?!" Sylvie finally broke, NEEDING to know what her friend would say.

"What do you want a chance at, Brett?" Kidd asked softly, watching the panic return to Brett's eyes. "What do you hope to still have a chance for?"

Brett swallowed audibly before finishing her second beer swiftly. She looked around the bar nervously, though they were not in earshot of anyone. What DID she want a chance at? She had certainly not had enough time to truly consider that very loaded question.

Her emotions had taken over today without her even having enough time to process what those emotions might mean. She could convince herself that she just felt guilty for treating her friend in such a way; her subconscious wouldn't let her lie to herself. The accurate answer was that she didn't know what kind of chance she was hoping for, but Foster had to forgive her in order for them to have a chance at ANYTHING. Brett needed a chance to see what their anything could be.

Before Brett could stutter out that she didn't know (and was terrified by it), Stella's eyes widened as she noticed the door to Molly's open. In strode Foster, looking stressed out and tired. Stella tried not to react enough to gain Sylvie's attention but it was too late.

Brett turned around, glancing at the door to see what had caught Stella's gaze; her own eyes widened before she turned back around in her seat as though she didn't notice Foster's presence. Stella looked to her friend, not surprised to see the look of fear mixed with excitement her eyes held.

"I thought she was on a date," Stella shrugged curiously.

"Maybe it's already over," Sylvie considered, wishing she could flag down Otis for another round but waiting for Foster to settle herself on her barstool, on the opposite side of the room.

"Maybe," Stella nodded. "But that would mean it didn't go too well," she pointed out.

"She said she didn't even like her," Sylvie reminded her friend, finally flagging down Otis.

"I remember," Stella said, dead pan. "Because it set you the hell off."

"Just… WHY, you know? Did you see the new Fed Ex chick? She's not even CUTE! I mean, I'm no expert but why would someone go out with someone they don't know or like?! I've been kicking myself all day for getting judgmental about it but I just don't understand!" Brett huffed, watching Otis stop at Foster on the way to their table. He said something to the woman before she swiveled her seat slightly to the left, noticing.

Foster's eyes locked with Brett's, no telling emotion behind either set. Brett felt caught (caught what, she wasn't sure). Foster felt anxious. Kidd felt uncomfortable as hell. The two stared at each other until Otis arrived with their beers.

"Hey, Foster's here. I told her you guys were over here in case she wanted to join," he told them sweetly, setting down their beverages and heading back to work.

"Yeah, right," Brett scoffed. "She DEFINITELY doesn't want to join us," she grumbled sadly.

"You sure?" Kidd asked, casually glancing between the two tense women.

"Very sure."

"Then why's she keep looking at you?" Kidd asked, watching as Brett glanced back across the room, again.

"She probably feels awkward," Brett reasoned, though her eyes didn't pull themselves away from Foster's.

"Damn, I feel awkward," Stella laughed.

"Should I go talk to her? Apologise? I should go talk to her," Brett bounced in her seat nervously.

"I wouldn't," Stella said, flat.

"But—"

"No. Brett? She said she wasn't ready to talk, right? If you go over there and push it it's only gonna push her further away. If you want your chance at…whatever, you have to respect what she needs," Kidd told her.

"I can't just sit here and look at her and not go apologise," Sylvie threw up her hands.

"So stop lookin' at her. Do you want to leave?" Stella suggested, clearly having no idea what the best plan of action was in this incredibly strange situation.

"No! If we leave she'll think I'm avoiding her."

"Maybe you SHOULD be avoiding her," Stella rolled her eyes.

"I think I'm gonna go talk to her," Brett nodded resolvedly, eyes wide as she contemplated.

"What are you gonna say?" Kidd challenged, knowing she was saving her friend from disaster.

"That I'm sorry! That I wasn't judging her and I just got caught up and that it should've never happened," Sylvie said as though that was obvious.

"Didn't you already tell her all that?"

"Well… yeah but I want to make sure she knows I mean it," Sylvie argued.

Stella face-palmed.

"Oh, Brett. You silly kid. What happens when she wants to talk about WHY you got caught up? About what made you feel so overwhelmed you snapped the hell out? Are you gonna be able to tell her why?"

Brett's face fell. She had no idea what she would say if Foster wanted an explanation. Of course Foster would want an ACTUAL explanation, and she deserved one. She glanced at Foster again only to find the woman staring at her face. That was it. All of her strength, all of her resolve and fear flew out the window upon seeing the look in Emily's eyes. Rationality be damned. She would talk to her tonight.


	5. Chapter 5

Brett was out of her seat and out of earshot long before she could hear Stella say, "Brett? Wait!" protectively. Stella shook her head and realized that it didn't matter how hard she was trying to help her friend at this point. The heart wants what it wants, even if it doesn't know what the hell it wants and is about to make a fool out of itself. Stella decided to get another drink and watch the shit show unravel.

"Hey," Brett said quietly, approaching Foster as she watched her every step. The woman had already flagged Otis down for another beer, which was sat next to Foster readily.

"Watch out," Foster said suddenly, sarcasm dripping from her words, "you might not want your friends to see you with the big bisexual whore and get the wrong idea," she rolled her eyes, downing her drink but not pulling her eyes from Brett.

Brett sank. She was filled with a mix of guilt and anger that only brewed after slamming a few beers in a short amount of time. She stepped away from Foster quickly.

"Seriously? What is that supposed to mean? I know that you want to make your point but don't you think I already understand that I screwed up?" Brett asked a bit too loudly, drawing Otis and Herrmann's attention from behind the bar.

"Do you?" Foster asked quietly, causing Brett to approach again slightly. "If you really feel the way you feel about me then why are you even over here?"

'The way you feel about me.' Brett repeated in her head. To Foster, that feeling was negative. To Brett, it was anything but, even if she didn't fully understand it yet. She took a deep breath and attempted to contain herself before she spoke. Fail.

"I couldn't sit across the room and look at you without coming over to apologise," Brett admitted, picking up her drink from the bar but making a point not to get too close to Foster.

"You already apologized, Brett," Foster sighed out, finishing her drink and already seeking another.

'Damn you, Stella,' Brett thought to herself. Why did she always have to be right?

"You told me that you couldn't talk about it but you would be able to. But then you showed up here tonight and you just kept looking at me and it felt like we had something to say," Brett told her, heart on her sleeve, finally.

"I cancelled my date," Foster said suddenly with no emotion behind it. It took everything in Brett not to squeal in delight.

"Why?" Brett asked, as casually as she could muster, as she sipped her beer when she wanted to chug it.

"You pissed me off today, Sylvie. You really did. You made me angrier than I have been in a long time," Foster said, looking into her eyes intensely as she spoke. She looked away and took a long swig of her drink. "But you weren't wrong, about some of it," she added nervously. "I will never feel ashamed of myself or my dating. I will never feel bad about getting to know people and exploring my options. But I shouldn't have agreed to a date with someone that I didn't like. That I wasn't even attracted to. You got me there," she raised her glass and rolled her eyes, uncomfortable with admitting her forfeit.

"I bet she was heartbroken," flew out of Brett's mouth before she even realized that the words were in her head. She thought about poor, not-cute FedEx girl and she put herself in her shoes. If Emily Foster cancelled a date with her, she'd be wrecked. She realized what that meant.

"Seriously, Brett?! What's that supposed to mean? Your disrespect for me has gone WAY too far and somehow you packed in all in to one day," Foster said, wild-eyed, slamming her empty glass onto the counter.

Brett's head was swimming. What? She was trying to be honest (with herself) with Emily, finally, and THAT'S the reaction she got. It took a few seconds too long for her to realise that Foster thought she was being sarcastic when she was more sincere than she had been in a long time.

"Emily!" Brett nearly shrieked, understanding the weight of her nervous tone. "I meant that," she said sadly, barely touching Foster's elbow, drawing her eyes. "I bet she WAS heartbroken." Brett took a deep breath and maintained eye contact with the now erratic looking woman. "I know I would be."

crickets

Foster shook her head hard and flagged down another drink. She was speechless, which was a very uncommon occurrence for her. Torn between being meant to feel ashamed and flattered, she stewed in the awkwardness for another solid minute before speaking.

"Brett, I honestly don't know how to feel about anything that comes out of your mouth anymore," she admitted, leaning back in her chair as Brett stood near-but not too near-to her. "After today, I don't know when you're being real and when you're not."

"You think I'd say something like that to be rude to you?! You think that I'm not jealous of every single person that gets your attention enough for you to want to date them?" Brett's eyes went wide as soon as the words were out of her mouth, not fully realizing that she felt that way, let alone would be so quick to admit it. Damn you, alcohol.

"Jealous?" Foster asked in a mere whisper, equally surprised by Brett's admission.

"Otis?!" Brett said almost violently, ripping his attention away from the customer he was currently serving.

From across the room, Stella swore and shook her head. She'd been watching the interaction and filling in the words as if she was watching a telenovela. It took Brett's terror squeak to make her realize that the dialogue she'd been making up wasn't too far off.

Otis had new drinks in both Brett and Foster's hands within the minute and they sat in tense silence as they drank them (too quickly).

It took nearly four minutes of glancing at one and other before quickly looking away. It took gulping nearly three-quarters of their drinks, respectively. It took sixty-five hand fidgets, thirteen glances toward Stella, and twenty-seven leg taps before the silence was broken.

"Yes," Brett said, taking a deep breath and looking to the ceiling. "Jealous."


	6. Chapter 6

The pounding of her heart, blood rushing through her temples, only amplified Brett's panic over her sudden admission. Jealous. She said JEALOUS and she MEANT it and now Foster knew it. Brett looked around wildly, feeling Foster's gaze boring into her.

"Well, I should…" Brett stuttered out, catching Stella's amused face in the corner. "I just left Kidd over there, so I should probably go—"

"Nope," Foster grabbed Brett's wrist gently as she shook her head. She wouldn't let Brett avoid this so easily. "I think Kidd is just fine over there," she almost chuckled, nodding at Stella as they made eye contact. "And also, I think you said the word jealous?" she cocked her head with a smirk, causing Brett's blush to spread.

"So you're gonna make fun of me now?" Brett asked shakily, suddenly wishing there was whisky in her glass instead of beer.

"I'm not making fun of you, Sylvie. But you can't drop something like that and then act like it never happened," Foster told her reasonably, finishing her drink.

"Sure I can…" Brett grumbled, causing Foster to sincerely laugh.

"So…" Foster began, focusing on using the correct words and tone as to not scare Brett even further away. "You went off on me today, judged the hell out of me and made me feel like an asshole because you're JEALOUS?" she asked calmly. "I just want to be clear."

"I…" Brett swallowed hard, also finishing her beer. "I didn't realise it. I didn't know really what it was, but yeah… I think so." If Brett had realised how ineloquent she sounded she would be judging herself right now.

"What made you realise?" Foster said softly, suddenly very serious, her intense gaze causing Brett's blood pressure to rise.

"Stella thought we were dating," she spat out quickly.

"I know."

"What?! How?" Brett asked, wide-eyed, looking across the room to Stella.

"She told me," Foster shrugged casually. "After your little freak out today, we were both kind of shocked. She told me that she might be to blame."

"Oh God…." Sylvie whined, lying her face onto the bar top.

"I was so insulted, you know? I thought that you freaked out because you were scared that people thought we were dating, like I'm some disgusting bisexual whore and you didn't want to have any association with that," Foster admitted, watching as Sylvie sat up quickly and looked into her eyes.

"No! Emily, are you kidding me? You thought I was disgusted by you?" Brett was heartbroken by the thought.

"I couldn't figure out why else you'd lose it on me," Foster shrugged.

"I… I couldn't figure it out either," Brett admitted sadly. "But I knew it definitely wasn't because I was disgusted by you."

"So…?" Foster prompted Brett to continue, needing whatever information her partner would allow.

"You talk about dating a lot, you know? It's never bugged me because I respect you and I want you to do whatever makes you happy," Brett caused a small smile to grace Foster's lips. "But today, you were talking about your date and you knew, you KNEW you didn't like her. That just killed me, I guess," she looked away, embarrassed and afraid.

"Why?" Foster nearly whispered.

"You'd go out with someone you weren't even attracted to… but you'd never think of me… romantically," Brett rolled her eyes at herself and considered resting her head on the bar again.

Without being asked, Otis set two new drinks in front of them before rushing away.

"But I should really get back to Stella. I just left her and—" Brett spat out once again as the panic set in.

"No!" Foster chuckled, slapping Brett's arm affectionately. "Come 'ere," she waved Brett closer until the woman was standing at the side of her chair. "Can I ask you something?"

Brett nodded in terror.

"Do you like women? Are you attracted to women?" Foster asked directly, causing Brett's stomach to swirl.

"I… uh… I…" she choked, clearing her throat. "I didn't think so."

"Okay. So, you wanna know the only thing all the people I've dated have had in common?" Foster asked, tilting her head to force Brett to look at her.

"What?" Brett asked quietly.

"I knew they were attracted to women. To ME."

It hit Sylvie like a brick before Foster even had a chance to elaborate. She realised her jealousy existed because she was an idiot and her face reddened.

"The ONLY reason that I never considered dating you is because WHY would I? You never gave me any reason to think you liked me, Brett. As a partner, sure. As a friend, even better. I know we play and flirt and stuff but honestly a lot of women are like that with their friends even if they have no attraction to them. How was I supposed to know it was any different?"

"You weren't," Brett sighed out, rubbing her eyes hard. "I didn't even know it was any different."

"Until today?" Foster had to ask. She knew that this didn't completely stem from Stella's assumption. There was more to it, even if Brett hadn't fully acknowledged it yet.

"I mean…" Brett breathed out, trying to focus on her oxygen intake to assure her heart would continue to beat. "Maybe, subconsciously… there was something. But I didn't know it."

"How long?" Foster asked boldly.

"How long what?" Brett asked, though she was certain she knew what the woman was asking.

"Sylvie…" Foster whined, rolling her eyes and shaking Brett gently by the arm. "How long have you thought about it? About us?"

At that moment, Brett nearly threw up in her mouth. It's just a phrase, but this time it was almost literal.

"I…" Brett choked aloud, trying to cover with a large swig of beer and a less than graceful wipe of her mouth. She wasn't sure she could do this.

"Sylvie?" Foster said softly, running her hand down Brett's trembling forearm. "We're being honest now, right? After everything? After today?"

Emily's shining eyes melted Brett into a puddle, like they often did. At work, on the job, she had to keep herself in check and only look into those eyes when there was a life or death task at hand. Her gaze couldn't linger too long. They couldn't play or fight or flirt at the firehouse like they could when they were alone together. Brett couldn't allow herself to be distracted when there were lives at stake. Right now, she realised there weren't.

"Sometimes I have to keep myself from looking at you at work," Brett admitted, refusing to let her eyes meet her partners, staring at a blank spot on the wall next to her. "Because if I look at you, I'll LOOK at you, you know?"

"I think I know…" Foster admitted. "Elaborate?"

"I can't let myself get distracted. But you… distract me. Badly. And it's scared me for a while," she sighed, glancing at Foster briefly.

"Why didn't you say something?" Foster asked sincerely, resting her hand upon Brett's casually.

"I really didn't know what it meant. I still don't," Brett rolled her eyes at herself, feeling like a teenager with their first crush.

"Okay…" Foster nodded, removing her hand from Brett's. "I don't want to push you, Sylvie. I just need you to know…"

"Know what?" Brett asked, suddenly looking directly into her partner's eyes, wide and terrified.

"If I would have known you felt like this, if YOU would have known you felt like this… I wouldn't have been on a date in a while," she smiled, shyly. Brett knew that shy was a rare occurrence for Foster and she smiled back.

"What about—" Sylvie started, smirk becoming her.

"You had to go and ruin it, didn't you?" Foster laughed, pushing Brett by the shoulder. "I might have been on a date with you, asshole," she grinned.

"Might you have?" Brett chuckled, finally feeling confident enough to express… whatever this was.

"I hate you," Foster blushed as she pushed her aside again.

"No, you don't."

"No, I definitely don't…" Foster said apprehensively.

"But?" Brett asked, voice caught in her throat.

"But I need to know that this is real. And I don't mean that to sound rude but if you don't even know what it is, what am I supposed to make of it?" Foster asked, vulnerability reaching her features despite her cool front.

"I don't know," Brett admitted sadly, drinking her beer and avoiding eye contact. "I can't expect you to bank on anything I say, especially after today."

"Forget today," Foster said, shaking her head. "Well not ALL of today; I think it turned out pretty good. Forget the freak out. Let's put it behind us."

"Really?" Brett asked, knowing no such good grace was deserved. "Emily, I was terrible to you. I—"  
"I understand why now. That's all that matters," Foster interrupted. "I just don't know… Brett, if you aren't attracted to females then how can I sign up for this?" she asked, flustered.

"Sign up for what?" Brett asked honestly. They hadn't had a conversation about what they were or could be… yet. "I didn't say I wasn't attracted to females," she swallowed the lump in her throat. "I AM attracted to you…"

"Are you sure?" Foster asked, mouth suddenly dry.

"Very sure," Brett grinned, sipping her beer while keeping her flirtatious eyes on Foster's.

"Hmm…" Foster smirked, trying to hide the blush upon her cheekbones. "Why don't we test that?"

XXX


	7. Chapter 7

_A/N: Still rolling with this. I hope you like it and you're still on board. Please let me know what you think. Thanks for reading._

"Test it?!" Brett choked out, her voice squeaking, terror visible in her eyes.

"Yeah," Foster nodded confidently. "Just to be certain that you're attracted to me, let's test it. Nothing weird, nothing that will draw any more attention to us…" she trailed off.

"I feel like you're messing with me…" Brett admitted, taking a step back.

"I promise I'm not," Foster told her. She leaned into Sylvie and barely brushed her ear with her lips as she whispered, "Come 'ere."

Brett's eyes slammed shut as a cool surge ran down her spine and through her body. Her mind was torn between stepping closer to Foster or running out of the building. Foster's hand on her hip made the decision for her. She stepped closer to Foster, feeling as the woman pulled her by the beltloop, eyes still closed. Her heart was pounding violently in her chest and she had to concentrate on the fact that she was still breathing. Her eyes opened slowly to find Foster staring at her face seriously.

"Come closer," Foster said quietly, holding onto the beltloop and tugging slightly.

Brett leaned against Foster's thigh and hoped to god that they were being more subtle than she felt. (They weren't). Foster splayed her hand across Brett's hip bone, out of sight of any of the bar patrons.

Foster had suggested that they test Brett's attraction to her but now she feared that she would scare the woman away with her directness. She always tended to act before she thought. She leaned nearer to her dazed partner and smiled softly as she whispered, "Is this okay?"

"Yes…" Brett breathed out as Foster squeezed her hip slightly. Brett grasped Foster's thigh simply because she needed something to ground her. She was no longer thinking clearly.

Foster made a small noise upon feeling Brett grip her leg, causing Brett to open her eyes widely, heat pooling in her stomach at the sound that her touch had caused.

"I'm sorry," Brett pulled her hand away quickly but didn't back away from Foster. "I… I just needed something to hold on to," she admitted, looking down at Foster's hand on her hip, toying with the hem of her shirt.

Foster was foggy eyed but found the strength to lean into Brett's ear one final time.

"Don't ever be sorry for touching me," she rasped out quietly, lips brushing Brett's ear anything but accidentally.

Brett gasped, taking a step back quickly, scared at the pang she felt in her core upon hearing Foster's words. Wide-eyed, she stared at Foster in panic.

GULP "I…damn," Brett shook her head, completely astounded by what she was feeling. "I need to go," she squeaked, fear in her voice.

"Did I scare you away?" Foster asked sadly, suddenly looking at the floor instead of at Brett.

Brett considered the question seriously before forming her answer.

"No," she shook her head honestly, stepping closer to Foster once again. "I scared me," she admitted, brushing her fingers over Foster's knee subtly.

Foster smiled softly at the sensation but didn't reach out for Brett, despite her desire to.

"Did you get your answer?" Foster grinned, hoping to lighten the mood and push away some of Brett's anxiety.

"My answer?" Brett asked in confusion, having gotten so caught up in the feeling of being near Foster that she forgot there was a question in the first place.

"Yeah. Your test results?" Foster smirked, brushing her thumb over Sylvie's knuckles boldly.

"Oh…." Brett squeezed her eyes shut in embarrassment as a warm blush spread over her cheeks. "The test results…" She took a deep breath, trying to keep herself in check. "I, uh…I definitely got my answer," she nodded, shuddering at the thought of the surge that Foster caused within her.

"And?" Foster asked, trying to keep her face serious and watching as Brett's blush spread. She was full on playing now.

"You're an asshole!" Sylvie laughed gleefully as she pushed Foster's shoulders in embarrassment, causing the woman to burst into laughter as well.

"I AM kind of an asshole but that doesn't answer my question," Foster grinned, poking Brett in the ribs and causing her to laugh harder.

"Nope," Brett feigned sincerity, "I guess I failed the test," she shrugged. "Or maybe YOU failed the test because I definitely was not attracted to you at all," she fought off her smirk.

"That…" Foster's expression became serious. She reached up and brushed a strand of hair away from Sylvie's face, her fingers lingering on the woman's jawline and causing her eyes to flutter shut. "Is unfortunate," she breathed out, looking deeply into Brett's eyes.

Brett's sharp intake of breath at the sensation let the women know that they were no longer playing. She felt the surge again, down her spine and directly to her core. She found herself wishing that she had something to hold on to. Self-control was failing her.

Sylvie gulped as she attempted to speak but only a broken consonant sound came out.

"I… I'm gonna go," she said quietly. She didn't want to take a step away from Foster but she needed time to analyse and calm the pulsing in her abdomen.

"You okay?" Foster asked genuinely, seeing the foggy look of arousal in Brett's eyes.

"Yeah. I'm… something," Brett chuckled quietly, blush reforming.

"Okay," Foster nodded. "If I did anything wrong, please tell me," she said, seeming scared.

"Emily, you didn't do anything wrong," Sylvie promised, resting her hand on the woman's thigh once again. "It was definitely the opposite of wrong," she smiled at the thought.

"So you're not leaving because I scared you?"

"No," Sylvie shook her head, squeezing Foster's thigh for reassurance. "It was kind of a big day for me. I need to go home and overanalyze," she chuckled. "And to be honest," she started, looking around nervously before leaning in closely to Foster's ear, "you turned me on so much that I'm a little uncomfortable," she boldly admitted.

Foster gasped, eyes going wide at the look of arousal in Brett's emitted. Now SHE was so turned on she was uncomfortable. She blinked hard, shocked at Brett's confidence.

"Wow…" Foster choked out, otherwise speechless.

"I am going to say goodbye to Kidd," Brett told her, changing the subject intentionally. She was as shocked by her own boldness as Foster was. "I'll be back," she smiled, running her fingers over Foster's thigh before walking away.

XXX

"What the hell was that?!" Stella nearly shrieked as Brett (finally) re-approached their table.

"What was what?" Brett asked casually, trying to hide the grin that was creeping onto her face. She wanted to squeal in delight and tell Stella everything but she knew it wasn't the time for that.

"'What was what?!'" Stella mocked in disbelief. "I thought you were gonna make out right there at the bar!"

Sylvie chuckled and allowed herself to smile. "I kinda thought so too," she admitted with a blush. "I kinda wish we would have," she grinned dreamily.

Stella slapped her hand excitedly, shaking her out of her reverie. "So I'm guessin' she forgave you?" she smirked. "Are you two like, together now?"

"I…" Brett's face became serious. "We didn't get that far," she told her friend. "We just needed to make sure I was actually attracted to women, which, holy shit am I."

Stella laughed loudly at her friend's self-discovery. "Well I'm glad you figured it out," she smiled. "Are you gonna be together?"

"I…" Brett stuttered once again, suddenly nervous that the 'test' was all that it meant to Foster. "I hope so," she decided. "I need to go," she told her friend, brow furrowed and face serious. "I'll call you tomorrow?"

Stella nodded solemnly, seeing the resolve on her friend's face. Sylvie hugged her friend quickly before grabbing her bag and heading across the bar.

Foster looked up, becoming nervous upon seeing the expression on Brett's face; she couldn't read it but it certainly wasn't light-hearted as it was when she walked away.

"Hey?" Foster asked fearfully reaching out for Brett's hand instinctively. "You okay?"

"Yeah," Brett spat out too quickly. "I think so," she nodded in a rush. "Will you go out with me tomorrow? On a date?" she asked quickly, brow still furrowed as her heart nervously thrummed.

Foster smiled softly, reaching for Brett's hand and pulling her closer as she realised what Brett's fearful resolve face meant.

"I would LOVE to go on a date with you tomorrow," she smiled widely as she squeezed Brett's hand in her own.

"You're not just agreeing because you think you have to?" Sylvie asked, relieved but still apprehensive.

"Sylvie," Foster bumped Brett's shoulder and pulled her nearer. "You're the only person I want to date," she said sincerely, causing Brett to release the breath she was holding. "I do have to warn you about something though…"

"What?" Brett asked, suddenly nervous again.

"If you're taking me out on a date," she began, watching the fear in Sylvie's eyes, "I probably won't be able to keep myself from kissing you tomorrow," she whispered, feeling Brett shudder against her.

"Hmm…" Brett breathed out, grin on her face. "That does kind of sound like a problem…" she smirked, bumping Foster's shoulder as she stepped away. "I guess we'll have to wait and see."

Foster nodded. "Call me tomorrow?"

Brett nodded soundly. "Goodnight, Emily," she said quietly, leaning in and kissing the woman's cheekbone softly, allowing her lips to linger at the warm sensation and feeling Foster breathe out shakily.

"Goodnight, Sylvie."


	8. Chapter 8

_A/N: I hope you all find this story going well. I'm already on to chapter nine (it's a continuation of chapter eight) so I hope you'll all enjoy. Feedback would be greatly appreciated. I want to be true to the characters but still put my own little gay spin on it. Thanks for reading._

"A date?!"

The shock in Stella's voice over the phone made Sylvie laugh out loud and roll her eyes at her friend.

"Yes, a date. Why is that so surprising?" Brett asked, digging through her closet for… something.

"You had a huge fight, YESTERDAY. You didn't know you liked women until YESTERDAY. And you already have a date?" Stella reasoned, proud (if astonished) for her friend.

"You seem more shocked that I have a date than you were when you thought we were gonna make out last night," Sylvie chuckled, taking a break from looking for 'date' attire and falling back onto her bed.

"I am!" Stella exclaimed. "Makin' out in a bar is one thing, but a date is… serious," she told her.

"I guess," Sylvie shrugged. "I'm kind of nervous. Should I be nervous?" she asked, though she already knew the answer.

"Hell yeah you should be nervous!" Stella said, never one to hold things back. "You've never dated a woman before. You know she's probably gonna kiss you, right?"

"She basically told me as much," Sylvie admitted, smiling at the thought.

"And you're ready for that? Listen, Brett, I'm not tryin' to be any type of way about this, and I'm really proud of you, I just don't want you to get in over your head already and freak yourself out," Stella said seriously.

"You know me so well," Sylvie sighed.

Kidd was right; Brett tended to pull away when things got serious or scary. Having a date with a woman she had just admitted to liking had the potential to send her into spiral mode. Something about Emily made Sylvie feel like it was worth the risk.

"I think I AM ready for it," Brett told her friend. "Last night, the things she made me feel, even though they're new… I wanted her to kiss me last night. It was so intense that for a second I didn't even care that we were in Molly's in front of the whole fire house," she divulged.

"Damn…" Stella breathed out, realizing the severity of the situation. "I'm happy for you, Brett."

Sylvie could hear her friend's smile through the phone.

"So what are you doin'? Where are you taking her?" she asked excitedly.

"Well like you said, I've never dated a woman. I'm not sure if it's any different than with a guy, but I'm not taking any chances. I'm taking it easy. I don't want Foster to think I'm U-hauling to the second date," she laughed.

"What makes me think that you were up all night doing lesbian research on the internet?" Stella chuckled.

"Again, you know me so well," Brett laughed.

"What about sex?" Stella asked suddenly, causing Brett to panic slightly.

"What do you MEAN, what about sex?!"

"I mean, DATING a woman might not be too different from dating a guy. But I'm guessing the sex definitely is," Stella said slowly, sensing the sudden fear in her friend's voice.

"I…" Brett gulped audibly. "I hadn't thought that far into it," she admitted.

"Well you might want to. You said she had you all hot and bothered last night so things might go faster than you think."

"I DID NOT say that she had me all hot and bothered!" Sylvie gasped.

"Okay… maybe you didn't SAY it but that doesn't mean it's not true," Stella shrugged.

"What makes you think that?!" Sylvie felt herself blush even though no one was there to see it.

"Um… I have eyes?" Stella said like 'duh'. "You looked like you were about to jump her right there on the bar," she laughed despite the situation.

"I did?" Sylvie asked quietly.

"Yeah, you did. I've never seen you like that with anyone," she told her. "And it looked to me like Foster was kinda letting you take the lead with the whole thing, as she should. But you still looked like you were takin' her home last night."

Brett sat back and thought hard about what her friend was saying. It really was obvious, wasn't it? Brett had certainly realized and overanalyzed how Foster had made her body feel but she hadn't quite faced it yet. She had been more turned on simply from subtle touches and whispers than she had been in a long time, maybe ever. That fact was beginning to scare her now.

"I think she is going to let me take the lead with this," Brett said surely. "So I think if I'm not ready for a while she's gonna be cool with that."

"I totally think you're right," Stella calmed her. "But it kinda seems like you're more ready than you think."

XXX

Brett tried like hell to stay calm and collected as she drove to Foster's apartment. This was clearly new territory for her and it was showing. Who drove when it was two women going on a date? Brett decided that since she was the one who asked, she would be the one that drove. That seemed logical, right?

Her heart pounded as she wiped her sweaty palms on her jeans, waiting for Foster to emerge from the building. She had chosen to keep it casual; a picnic in the park, complete with little sandwiches, cookies and fruit, all in a wicker basket. She laughed for a moment about how 'girlie' the whole thing was. She hoped that Foster wouldn't mind.

Emily's smiling face as she approached the car set Brett's mind at ease, for a minute. She was also dressed casually, but her hair was down and beautiful and Brett beamed at her as she got into the passenger seat.

"Fancy meeting you here," Foster joked, squeezing Brett's hand slightly and causing the butterflies to resurface.

"You, too," Brett smiled. "But I hope you're not looking for too fancy," she added nervously.

"You told me to wear jeans and a t-shirt, Sylv. I was hoping for a nice, chill date," she said honestly.

"Good," Brett smiled, relieved.

"So where are we going?" Foster asked. She would have gone anywhere with Brett but the anticipation was still getting to her.

"To the park," Brett said, nodding to the backseat where the traditional picnic basket sat waiting for them.

"A picnic!" Foster beamed, genuinely impressed. "Sylv, that's amazing! No one's ever taken me on a picnic before." The sparkle in her eyes made Brett know she meant it.

"That's just wrong," Brett grinned. "You definitely deserve to be taken on picnics." Her own cheesiness embarrassed slightly.

"Well now I am," Foster said, squeezing her hand again.

They drove in comfortable silence, just a few miles outside of the city to a secluded park. Trees lined the streets and everything felt peaceful. The weather was just right for a picnic; breezy but warm, overcast just enough that they would be comfortable. Sylvie pulled the basket and a blanket from her back seat and they began to wander to find the perfect spot.

Brett set up the picnic like she had done it a million times before and for a second Foster wondered if she had. How many picnic dates had she taken people on?

"This is really nice," Foster said softly, lying back onto the blanket as she sipped out of her water bottle. "It was a great idea," she looked to Brett happily.

"I hoped you wouldn't think it was too girlie. Or lame. Or cheap," Brett admitted, chuckling at her own insecurity.

"It's perfect," Foster told her, reaching over and lacing their fingers together, enjoying the comfort and the company.

"I'm really glad you think so," Brett beamed, seeing the pure contentment in Foster's eyes. "Next time I'll actually take you out somewhere."

"Next time?" Foster asked, surprised, eyebrow raised in question.

"Oh…" Brett went wide eyed and felt the nervousness bubbling up again. "Shit, Em. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have assumed that—"

"Next time…" Foster interrupted with a smile, pulling Brett closer to her by their entwined hands, "next time I'M taking YOU out on a date," she told her, pulling her close and putting an arm around her waist.

"Oh…" Sylvie closed her eyes happily as she leaned against Foster's side, relieved. "You really like to mess with me, don't you?" she smirked, turning her head to look into Foster's eyes.

Foster shrugged with a smug grin. "Just because we're dating now that doesn't mean I have to stop messing with you."

Dating.

Date one and Foster was already calling it 'dating'. It sent a flood of warmth to Brett's heart and a pang of fear to her brain. She rested her head onto Foster's shoulder and told her brain to shut up.

XXX


	9. Chapter 9

_A/N: two updates in one day. This thing is eating me alive. I hope people are interested in this very unlikely pairing. Thanks for reading. Let me know what you think. _

Daylight had faded into dusk as Brett packed up the basket and folded the blanket, finally ready to end their date. Hours had been spent talking and laughing, throwing grapes and holding hands. Each stolen glance that they shared reminded Sylvie that she had never had a first date quite like this.

In the past, every first date was the result of anticipation; flirting and pining and overthinking for so long that by the time the first date arrived, the novelty had already worn off. Being with Foster was like getting hit over the head with a brick, in a good way. It had been so sudden, surprising even to her, that there was nothing but electricity between them. Every touch, every time they caught the other staring, sent a thrill throughout her body.

Brett pulled the car up to Foster's apartment, both looking at each other like they wished the night didn't have to end. Brett got out of the car instinctively, as least hoping for one of those lingering hugs they had been getting so good at. Foster stared at her for a moment before pulling her into her, holding her close as they embraced. The charge between them was undeniable, even from something as simple as a hug.

Foster stepped back and looked toward her front door almost apologetically. There was a question in her eyes, an almost nervousness that made Brett's heart flutter.

"I'm pretty sure you warned me about something…" Brett said softly, though flirtation coated her tone.

"Oh, did I?" Foster played back, though the apprehension in her demeanor was still apparent. "What was that?"

"I think it might've been something about… kissing me?" Brett pretended to ponder, tilting her head to gauge Foster's reaction.

"Yeah, I think I might have mentioned that…" Foster trailed off.

"Well?" Brett asked boldly, taking a tentative step away from her car and toward Foster.

"Look, Sylvie…"

Uh oh.

"I don't want to push you into anything, and I don't want to scare you away, you know?" she asked, fiddling with her hands to keep herself from reaching out to Brett. "This is so new, and I don't want you to think that you have to kiss me just because we went on a date."

Brett's brow furrowed and blood pumped through her ears in terror.

"You don't want to kiss me…" Brett realised sadly, taking a step back and leaning against her car, looking to the ground.

"Are you kidding me?!" Foster almost shrieked, stepping toward Brett quickly. "I want to kiss you SO badly. I've wanted to all day," she admitted, forcing Brett to look into her eyes. "But when you kiss me, I want it to be because you can't help yourself. Not because it's expected at the end of a date."

"Seriously, Em?" Brett shook her head, surprised by the woman's assumption. "I almost couldn't help myself last night! And that scares the hell out of me. I don't want to kiss you because we went on a date! Even if we never went on a date, I still wouldn't be able to keep myself from kissing you," she admitted, noticing how painfully slowly they seemed to be getting closer to one another.

"Oh…" Foster said softly, relieved.

She reached up slowly and brushed Brett's hair away from her face, hand lingering on the woman's jaw and causing her eyes to flutter shut, just as they had the previous night. Foster wanted everything between them to happen on Brett's terms but she knew she wouldn't be able to hold herself back for long.

Swiftly, Brett leaned in and softly brushed her lips against Foster's, pulling back quickly after only a second of contact. However chaste, Brett's heart began to pound as she looked into Foster's awestruck eyes. Brett smiled at the look between them and leaned in again.

This time, Brett allowed her lips to linger, waiting for Foster to react. It only took a moment of shock for Emily to reciprocate. Their lips brushed slowly, tenderly, and Foster's hand wove its way into Brett's hair, pulling her in and holding her close. Brett whimpered as Foster pulled her bottom lip between her own, their tongues meeting tentatively.

Brett's hands were on Foster in a split second, one grasping the woman's hip and the other pulling her shirt to press their bodies together. Their kiss became deep and slow, so intense that Brett forgot how to breathe. She was holding Foster against her with her back pressed into the car as Foster's hand tightened its grip on her hair. They couldn't get any closer to one another but they both still felt too far away.

Foster pulled back slowly, not loosening her grip on Brett. Her eyes were foggy and Brett's were still slammed shut, seemingly overwhelmed.

"Whoa…" Foster breathed out, smoothing Brett's disheveled hair uselessly.

"Mmph," Brett mumbled out, opening her eyes slowly to see Foster's face still only an inch from her own. She blinked hard, noticing how tightly she was gripping the woman's shirt, still holding them together. "That was…" she began, unable to find any more words in her mind's cloudy state.

"Yeah," Foster agreed, still in a daze. "It was."

Brett leaned down and rested her head on Foster's shoulder, holding her near and attempting her calm herself. Foster ran her hands up and down Brett's back, calming them both.

"I should go," Foster reluctantly mumbled into Brett's hair, though she didn't loosen her grip on the woman.

"Nope," Brett grumbled back, not bothering to pick up her head.

Foster chuckled and backed up slightly so she was able to look into Brett's arousal-laden eyes.

"You know I have to," Foster argued weakly. "We have work in the morning."

"You might have to, but I don't want you to," Brett told her, running her thumb across Foster's lower lip and reigniting the flame between them.

"Mmm…" Foster sighed at the sensation. "You can't be doing things like that."

"Why not?" Brett pouted.

"Because you know we have to go and you're using your charm to try to make me stay," she smirked.

"So? Is it working?" Brett grinned widely.

Foster pushed Brett's shoulders playfully before pulling her back into an embrace.

"Thank you for the date, Sylvie. It was absolutely perfect," Foster smiled softly. "I'll see you in the morning," she said, reluctantly taking a step back.

"Hey Emily?" Brett asked sweetly. "Can I have ONE more kiss before you go inside?" she asked, fluttering her eyelashes for effect.

Foster smiled, caving.

"ONE more kiss…"

Brett's back was pressed up against her car before she remembered to breathe, Foster kissing her so deeply that she was coming undone. Her grasp on Foster, on her shoulder, in her hair, only seemed to surge the woman on even more. Their bodies were pressed so fully together that Brett forgot about work, about life, and just needed to take in this moment and all of the unprecedented feelings it was creating within her. She held Foster as close to her as possible, sensually close. She pulled just far enough away to kiss down the other woman's throat, from behind her ear and down to her pulse point, where she instinctively nipped at the skin.

"Wait!" Foster huffed out, pulling back slightly and grabbing the side of her neck, succumbing to her arousal.

"Sorry," Brett said sheepishly, looking at the ground.

"Are you?" Foster challenged, stepping closer again and kissing Brett's temple.

"Not at all…" Brett admitted, blushing as she held Foster near.

Foster looked at her sternly, though a smile was threatening to creep onto her face.

"Distracting me with your charm," Foster grumbled, kissing Brett's cheekbone, her eyelid, melting her.

"I thought it was working…" Brett breathed out, so overcome by the sensation that her words were escaping her.

"You know it is," Foster promised, looking into Brett's eyes with nothing but care and lust emanating from them. "You also know—"

"Yeah, yeah… we have to go…" Brett rolled her eyes, disappointed at the lack of contact but knowing that her date was right.

"Goodnight, Sylvie. Sweet dreams," Foster said with a wink, placing one more kiss on Brett's cheek as she backed away.

"Emily?" Brett called out after her, still breathless. "ONE more kiss?"

XXX


	10. Chapter 10

_A/N: Short little fluffy filler. More to come today._

Stella didn't have to say a word. It was halfway through the day when she finally managed to spot Sylvie alone, reading a book in the bunk room. She walked in, attempting to be stealthy, and sat on the bed silently, expectantly. Sylvie didn't need to look up from her book to know who was suddenly sitting next to her, and why.

A moment passed in silence, Sylvie reading as though she hadn't noticed Kidd's presence at all. Soon Stella got anxious like a hyperactive child and began to shake Brett's leg aggressively.

"Whaaat?!" Sylvie whined, though she was laughing hysterically and shaking her friend off of her.

"Don't you say what to me!" Stella snapped, irritated. "I haven't seen you ALL day and now you're just gonna be like, 'What?'" she frowned.

"We've been working, Kidd!" Brett defended, trying to hide the smirk on her face behind her book.

"And your ass should have come and found me the SECOND we had down time!"

Brett laughed and set her book to the side, admitting defeat and smiling at her very curious friend.

"Well?!" Stella asked, eyes full of wonder.

"Well what?"

"Don't play dumb, Sylvia Brett," Stella chided. "Did you have a date or not?"

Brett looked around nervously, unsure if any of their coworkers were in earshot. Rather than answer audibly, she nodded and allowed her beaming smile to show.

"How was it?!" Stella squealed, shaking her friend excitedly.

"Wonderful," Sylvie said, dreamily, staring off into space as memories of the evening overtook her.

"I'd ask if you made out but the bite mark on Foster's neck kinda answers that one," Stella laughed.

"The what?!" Sylvie squeaked, looking around the room again anxiously. Bite mark?

"Oh, shit…" Stella looked suddenly terrified, much to Brett's confusion. "I thought…" she trailed off anxiously, looking away from her friend. "If that wasn't you, then…"

"No!" Brett stopped her friend's thoughts before they spiraled. "It WAS me, I just didn't realise there was a mark!" she whisper-yelled, causing Stella's face to break into a huge grin.

"You little slut!" Kidd joked, poking her friend in the ribs. "Thank god it was you. When you looked surprised I was worried someone ELSE left that there…"

"Shh…" Brett practically pleaded, hoping Stella's excitement wasn't going to draw a crowd.

"I don't know how you could have done THAT without noticing," Stella smirked, thinking of how far Brett had come in the last few days. "Wait!" she exclaimed. "Did you have sex?" she whispered excitedly.

"No!" Sylvie swore, wide-eyed.

"Oh, don't act so shocked," Stella scoffed. "If you're close enough to be biting her neck then it wasn't out of the question," she rolled her eyes.

She had a point.

"We just… kissed," Sylvie told her, face lighting up at the thought.

"Just kissed, huh?" Stella raised an eyebrow. "Just kissed with teeth and necks?" she joked.

"Shut up," Brett chuckled, hitting her friend with her pillow.

"Looks like I'm missin' all the fun," Foster smiled, walking into the bunk room just in time to see the pillow smack down.

"Doesn't seem like you're missin' any fun to me," Stella said, wagging her eyebrows and earning another pillow hit from Sylvie.

"Word travels, huh?" Foster joked, sitting on the bed opposite Kidd.

"I wasn't—" Sylvie's first instinct was to defend herself, in case Foster didn't want their situation to be discussed. Stella interrupted.

"Word DOES travel, but you know what travels quicker?" Stella asked, smirk never fading. "Watching you two try not to rip each other's clothes off at Molly's the other night."

Foster and Brett blushed simultaneously, causing a sick pride to rise within Kidd.

"And the bite mark on your neck was a dead giveaway," she added for good measure.

"The what?!" Foster's eyes widened and her blush deepened, looking at Brett pleadingly.

"She just told me," Brett said sadly. "I'm sorry. I didn't know…"

"How did I miss it?" Foster asked out loud, pulling out her phone and trying to check the reflection.

"That's what I'm saying," Kidd said, earning dirty looks from the other two.

"Let me see," Brett said softly, pulling Foster to her and pulling her collar away from her neck. She knew exactly where to expect to find the bruise, just not that she had bitten hard enough to cause it. "Oohhhhh…" she said, sitting back a bit upon seeing the apparent mark.

"How did that…" Foster began, bewildered. "I mean, I KNOW how it happened, but how did I not notice?"

"I'm really sorry," Brett said quietly, ashamed.

"Hell, I'm proud of you!" Kidd piped up, earning another scowl and getting the not-so-subtle hint. "Well, I'm just gonna let you talk…" she said sheepishly, shutting the door behind her.

"Are you upset with me?"

The words were out of Brett's mouth the second that Kidd left the room.

"I know I kind of bit you and I really didn't even mean to. I was just caught up in the moment and it was an accident and I had no idea it would leave a mark—"

Foster's lips pressed against Brett's quickly, effectively stopping her fearful rant. But just as quickly as they were there, they were gone, the eyes of the firehouse too much of a risk for the kiss to last longer than a second.

Brett was speechless. Foster was happy with her reaction. They stared at each other in awe for a moment before a smile crept onto Brett's face.

"I'm not upset with you, Sylv," Foster said quietly, subtly entwining their fingers. "Not at all. I was just as surprised as you were," she shrugged.

"I really didn't mean it," Brett promised. "I wouldn't, not when someone could see and wonder…"

"How about not WHERE someone could see and wonder?" Foster winked, eyebrows wagging as she watched the beet red blush cross Sylvie's features.

"Well I think we'd have to take it further than the parking lot for that to happen," Brett said brazenly, causing a flash of surprise and heat within Foster.

"Sounds like you've been thinking about this a lot during your down time," Foster flirted, squeezing Brett's hand as she stared into her eyes.

"You have NO idea."

XXX


	11. Chapter 11

_A/N: I can't stop writing this thing! I hope some of you are reading it. Thanks for your support._

The following day found everyone in the common room, hoping not to get any calls for their last remaining hour on shift. Mouch sat in his spot, watching a baseball game. Herrmann and Otis argued over their newest drink orders. Casey and Severide sipped coffee at the counter, both looking tired and worn. Kidd was lounged on the couch, opposite Mouch, flipping through a magazine and fighting off sleep. Brett and Foster were—

"Where are Brett and Foster? We gotta convince them to round up their friends for karaoke night," Otis piped up suddenly, earning an eye roll from Herrmann instantly.

"I'm tellin' ya this is a bad idea…" Herrmann argued. "You think it's gonna bring in money but I think it's just gonna make Molly's a laughing stock," he shook his head.

"I'm telling YOU, this is gonna be good for business," Otis argued back.

"No smoke eaters wanna get on stage and sing crappy covers, Otis," Herrmann said.

"Exactly! We'll draw a bigger crowd. A younger crowd," Otis reasoned. "So WHERE are Brett and Foster?" he asked again.

"Brett said she was goin' to clean the ambo," Stella outright lied, peeking into the truck bay.

The truth was, she had NO idea where Brett and Foster were, but she knew where they MIGHT be, and that was enough to try to keep the guys off their trail. The last days had been tough, and downtime had been even more welcome than usual, when they got it. Kidd hadn't seen much of Brett or Foster and she had a pretty good idea what that meant.

XXX

Brett roughly untucked Foster's shirt from her belt as she pushed her deeper into the equipment room. Their mouths had not left each other once since they quietly shut the door behind them. Foster's hands grasped at Brett's hips desperately as they finally found their way to the back of the room, turnout gear creating a protective cloak. Brett backed Foster into the wall so hard that she heard the air being expelled from her lungs. For a moment she had the presence of mind to worry that she hurt her; Foster's teeth biting into her lower lip made her forget that concern.

"We shouldn't be doing this," Foster rasped out, though she began to kiss her way down Brett's throat regardless.

"Doing what?" Brett breathed back, her fingers finding the warm skin of Foster's stomach for the first time, causing her to let out an audible sigh.

"Mmm…" Foster lost her argument, dragging her teeth across Brett's collarbone and forgetting the question.

Brett held Foster's head against her as the woman explored her throat and shoulder, pulling the collar of her t-shirt down to feel her skin. Lips and teeth and tongue against her caused Brett to moan uncontrollably as she clutched Foster to her.

"Shh…" Foster scolded but made her way back to Brett's pulse point regardless.

Brett's head was swimming. The heat in her abdomen was beginning to become painful and she found herself wishing that they were anywhere but at work so she could find some release. Her fingertips traced Foster's ribcage causing the woman to bite down, just hard enough to make sure that Brett knew that she was equally lost in desire.

_"Brett's not cleaning the ambo! I don't even think she's out here."_

Though muffled, Otis's voice was unmistakable. Brett and Foster pulled apart, wide-eyed and flushed, panicked.

Foster raised one finger to her lips, silently saying 'shh' and watching nervous sweat build on Brett's brow line. They listened closely for footsteps, hoping to track Otis's movements throughout the truck bay. They heard nothing.

"Stay here," Foster whispered nearly inaudibly. "I'll go out, distract him, and then you can come out," she said seriously, kissing Brett gently one more time as she attempted to tuck her shirt back in to uniform standard.

Brett nodded but her blood pressure was still sky high. Between the adrenaline from her arousal and the adrenaline from her panic, she felt like she was going into cardiac arrest. Foster put on her confident air and strolled out of the equipment room like nothing was amiss.

"Hey," Otis said casually, watching Foster exit the room and shut the door behind her. "What were you doing in there?" He wasn't being skeptical, just genuinely curious.

"Brett said she thought we had some spare medic uniforms in there but it's all just firefighter stuff," Foster shrugged, her ability to lie scaring her slightly.

"I'm pretty sure all the medic stuff is in a locker. Here, I'll show you," he smiled. "So we're having karaoke tonight…"

Upon hearing footsteps leaving the bay, Brett took a deep breath and decided she needed to make a break for it. She smoothed her hair, readjusted her shirt, and walked out calmly to find an empty truck bay. She sighed with relief.

"Well, well, well…" Stella said with a shit-eating grin, suddenly at her side.

"Kidd!" Brett startled, putting a hand to her already overworked heart. "You scared the hell out of me!"

"Sorry," she said, but she didn't look sorry at all, grin still plastered on her face. "Whatcha doin' in the equipment room?"

"Looking for equipment," Brett rolled her eyes.

"I bet you found some equipment," she chuckled.

Brett looked around nervously. Stella had made sure no one was around before going to give her friend a hard time.

"I don't even know what that means," Brett snapped, walking to the ambo and acting as casual as she could manage.

"I don't really know either," Kidd shrugged, brow furrowed. "I'm just givin' you shit."

"Clearly," Brett rolled her eyes, still unsuccessfully attempting to calm herself.

"You feelin' okay, Brett? You kinda look like you have a fever," Kidd joked, reaching out check Brett's forehead playfully before being smacked away.

"You're sick?" Herrmann asked as they entered the common room, clearly having overheard (just the last part, Brett hoped).

"No," Brett began, though her face became even warmer as she spoke. "Just tired and ready for this shift to be over."

"I hear ya," Herrmann nodded.

"So, Molly's tonight?" Kidd jumped in, hoping to save her friend from the conversation. "I had so many shifts last week that the guys are givin' me the night off," she beamed, high-fiving Herrmann.

"Uh…" Brett caught Foster's eye from across the room as she emerged with a new uniform shirt in her hands. She looked away quickly as to not be obvious. "Yeah, I don't think I'm doing anything."

Truth was, she knew EXACTLY what she would like to be doing tonight and it had already been proven that it wasn't something she could do at Molly's. If neither she nor Foster showed up at the bar it would raise a lot of questions. Keeping up appearances was a bitch.

"Otis was just telling me they're having karaoke tonight," Foster said casually, approaching the rest of the crew. "Getting drunk and watching people make asses of themselves sounds like a good time to me," she smiled.

"See?!" Otis looked to Herrmann.

"You know, kid, I didn't think about it that way. Even if our guys would never get up on stage, they MIGHT like watchin' other people fail…" Herrmann nodded contemplatively. "Alright, Otis. I'm on board."


	12. Chapter 12

If asked, Brett would deny that she had dressed up a little more than usual for a simple night at Molly's. No one would ask why she was wearing skinny jeans and heels (except maybe Kidd) but she had to be prepared anyway. Going out was always a good excuse to try to look nice after the t-shirts and uniform pants that work required, but now, Brett found, she had an even better excuse. She shook herself out of it (she didn't need to impress Foster, she kept telling herself) as she opened the door to Molly's to find a much larger (and younger) crowd than usual.

"Brett!" Kidd called out almost instantly, sitting at the end of the bar by herself.

Sylvie made her way over and hugged her friend casually before taking the stool next to her. She made eye contact with Otis, therefore ordering her drink without having to speak a word.

"This place is packed," Brett observed aloud, watching as audio equipment was being set up for karaoke.

"I know! I can't believe Otis's idea worked," Kidd mused, seeing Otis appear with Brett's drink.

"Gee, thanks," he rolled his eyes.

"Hey, man, just proving Herrmann wrong is good enough for me," Kidd told him, raising her glass. He smiled and went back to work. "Where's your girlfriend?" she asked Brett, nonchalant as always, causing the woman's eyes to widen.

"First, SHH!" Brett scolded, looking around the busy room nervously. "Second, she's NOT my girlfriend," she corrected, taking a big swig of her beer.

Kidd rolled her eyes.

"I just assumed you two would be showin' up together," she shrugged.

"She's meeting us here," Brett informed her.

"Is she why you're looking extra fancy-pants tonight? I know you didn't dress up for me," Kidd laughed.

"I'm not dressed up! I just felt like looking nice, okay?"

"Sure…" Kidd nodded sarcastically. "So you GOTTA tell me what happened in the equipment room!" she piped up suddenly as though she had just remembered catching her friend gay-handed.

"Jesus, Stella!" Brett whisper-yelled, immediately flushing. "Can you keep your voice down?!"

"Brett, it's loud as hell in here. And no one gives a damn what we're talking about anyway," Kidd pointed out accurately.

Brett only scrunched up her face and scanned the room for possible eavesdroppers.

"It was an accident," she said quietly, causing Kidd to burst into laughter.

"An accident? Aww," Stella pinched Brett's cheek before being swatted away. "How do you 'accidentally' hook up in the equipment room?"

"We didn't 'hook up', Stella. We're not teenagers," Brett argued weakly.

"So you fucked?"

"Stella!"

"Did you get to second base? Third?" Stella just kept the teasing coming as she watched Brett turn pink.

"Are we talkin' sports or sex?" Severide asked, suddenly beside them at the bar. Whichever it was, he HAD to hear the conversation.

Brett almost choked on her sip of beer upon being startled.

"Neither, unfortunately," Kidd told him, acting cool as a cucumber. "Brett has a baseball game on her phone that she sucks at," she shrugged, glancing to see Brett recovering out of the corner of her eye.

"Aw, too bad," Severide sounded disappointed. "If it was sports or sex I would've jumped into the conversation," he grinned, looking sweetly at Stella as he walked away from them.

"Kidd, I swear to god if anyone else hears anything I'm going to KILL you," Brett grumbled before downing her beer a bit too quickly.

"Sylvie, relax. Whether we were talking about sports or sex or whatever, you and *whispers* Foster would be the last thing people would think of," she said honestly. "And speaking of *whispers* Foster…" Stella nodded across the room to where the woman had just entered. It seemed Brett wasn't the only one who felt like looking nice tonight.

Foster's choice of flowy burgundy tank top and black skirt caused Brett's mouth to literally go dry. She flagged Otis for another beer before she made herself obvious.

"Hey guys!" Foster said happily, making her way next to the ladies.

Kidd caught the woman's eyes lingering on Brett for a moment too long but decided better than to comment on it. Brett avoided eye contact for a minute, her awkwardness only drawing more attention to herself.

"Otis, good call on the karaoke," Foster told him sweetly, eyeing the many patrons.

"Thanks, m'lady," he nodded as he set Brett's beer down in front of her.

"Beer?" Foster scoffed, nodding toward Brett's beverage of choice. "That's boring. I thought we were gettin' drunk and watching people make fools of themselves?"

"What did you have in mind?" Brett asked, her voiced coming out more flirtatious than she intended.

"Hmm…" Foster contemplated, looking to Kidd for back up. "I was thinking we should invite Jack to the party," she nodded seriously, causing Kidd to chuckle and nod in agreement.

"Who's Jack?" Brett asked, brow furrowed.

Foster smiled the sweetest smile at the blonde, eyes shining with endearment. Both Brett and Kidd noticed.

"Jack. Last name Daniels," Kidd told her with a straight face. "He's a good friend."

Brett rolled her eyes, feeling stupid and shaking her head at Foster who was grinning like an idiot.

"Three Jack's, coming up," Otis said, turning back to the bar.

"Neat!" Foster yelled after him.

Brett leaned toward Foster subtly and whispered, "Are you trying to get me drunk?" before quickly leaning back away.

"I've never really seen you drunk," Foster realised.

"Oh, you should!" Kidd piped up behind Brett. "It's hilarious! If we get her drunk enough she'll probably even sing."

"Stella, shut your mouth," Brett warned, only to be laughed at. "There is no amount of alcohol that could get me to sing karaoke in front of all these people."

"That's too bad," Foster said, looking Brett up and down unabashedly. "I bet you'd look really hot up there."

Kidd heard Foster's words loud and clear, which meant other people in the vicinity probably had as well. She expected Brett to blush and bolt but the woman froze instead, staring straight ahead. Foster caught Kidd shaking her head sternly and mouthing 'shh' and Foster got the hint. Foster could have said that to ANYONE; it's just the way Foster was. She didn't realise that this secret was causing Brett so much turmoil.

"Jack's here," Otis announced, setting out their drinks and breaking the uncomfortable silence.

"Thank god," Brett mumbled quietly, picking up her glass and taking a large swill.

"Geez, kiddo," Stella said, shocked. "Take it easy or you'll definitely be singin' karaoke tonight."

"Where's Severide?" Foster asked suddenly, trying like hell to change the subject and lighten Brett's mood.

"Uh," Stella looked through the crowd, "he's around here somewhere," she shrugged.

"Well you should find him and have him come drink some Jack with us," Foster said each word slowly and concisely so that Stella got her point: 'Leave us alone for a few minutes because I know I fucked up and I need to talk to her.' Stella understood the message clearly.

"Good idea!" she said, over-enthusiastically. "I'll be back in a few."

"Hey," Foster said quietly, brushing her fingers over Brett's knee under the bar and pulling her from her daze.

"Hey," Brett responded but there was no emotion in her voice.

"You okay? I didn't mean to upset you. I would've said that to Stella or anyone else without thinking anything of it. I didn't know you were so nervous about this," Foster admitted, leaning into Brett's line of sight and forcing her to look at her.

"I know…" Brett sighed out, sinking into herself. "I'm just so on edge, you know? Kidd wants to talk about everything, loudly, and the last time we were here we looked like we were going to make out. Now I just don't know how to be," she said sadly.

"I get it," Foster nodded sincerely. "So how 'bout if we just act normal? The harder we try not to, the more attention we're calling to ourselves," she pointed out the apparent awkwardness, which is just what Brett needed. "How many times have we been here together, drinking with Kidd? Were you ever worried about how it looked then?"

"Of course not," Brett told her, the gears finally turning.

"Right. Why would anyone think it's weird now?" Foster smiled softly, removing her hand from Brett's knee as Kidd and Severide approached.

"I wanted to reacquaint Kelly with Jack," Stella said goofily, pulling her barstool closer to Brett to make room for the man.

"Last time I saw him, we got in a fight," Severide said, making them all laugh.

"Maybe tonight you two can make up," Kidd told him, jabbing him in the ribs flirtatiously. Was that a metaphor for the two of them? Not even Stella was sure.


	13. Chapter 13

Some drunk guy's rendition of 'Pour Some Sugar On Me' had everyone in Molly's on their feet, cheering and laughing. His beer sloshed in it's glass as he poorly head-banged to the music. Though terribly off-key, his performance was surely entertaining the crowd.

"You're next, right?" Severide asked, leaning into Kidd with a smirk as they, Foster and Brett bobbed along to the shitty music.

"You wish," Kidd winked, finding herself standing slightly closer to the man.

"I DO wish," he admitted, bumping her shoulder.

"You think they're gonna get back together?" Foster asked quietly, any excuse to lean closer to Brett in the crowded room.

"They ARE awfully chummy tonight," Brett shrugged, stepping close enough that she was brushing against Foster's side. She made no attempt to back away.

"They're cute," Foster noted. "I just hope he doesn't fuck it up again, for Stella's sake."

"Me too," Brett nodded, allowing her knuckles to pass over Foster's briefly.

"Who needs more Jack?" Severide asked, a smile in his eyes.

"Me!" all three women said simultaneously, causing them to burst into tipsy laughter.

"I'll come with you," Foster nodded at him, touching Brett's elbow (subtly?) as she walked past.

As they headed toward the bar, Stella used the chance to talk to Brett alone- she knew she wouldn't get many opportunities as the night progressed.

"So... how's it going?" she asked with that glint in her eyes.

"I could ask you the same thing," Brett smirked.

"Whaddaya mean?" Kidd played dumb.

"You and Kelly seem to be having fun together tonight," Brett nodded toward the bar.

"Nah, you know we're just friends," Kidd argued weakly.

"For how long?" Brett challenged.

Kidd scowled but didn't answer the question.

"You seem to have relaxed," Kidd changed the subject smoothly.

"Jack helped that," Brett told her.

"See, I told ya if you and Foster just acted normal then no one would think anything was up."

"Yeah. It's a lot easier that way. I wish I could get some alone time with her though," she admitted.

"It's pretty hot in here," Stella said suddenly, catching her friend off guard.

"O...kay?" Brett quirked an eyebrow in confusion.

Kidd rolled her eyes at Brett's naivety.

"When they get back, just say it's hot in here and you need to get some air. I bet you a MILLION dollars that Foster offers to go with you," Kidd shrugged as though this was old hand to her. "And no one would think that was weird."

Brett's face lit up in a grin.

"You're a genius!" she said, hugging Kidd roughly and causing the woman to laugh.

"I try," she chuckled, seeing Severide and Foster heading back their way.

Severide handed Kidd her drink and they shared a look that didn't go unnoticed by Foster or Brett. Foster stood next to Brett and handed her a glass, making sure their fingers touched in the process. Brett tingled at the contact and became instantly warm.

"It's really hot in here!" Brett called, intentionally loudly enough for Severide and Kidd to overhear. "I'm getting claustrophobic."

Foster looked at her strangely but waited for her to elaborate.

"I think I'm gonna get some air," she announced, making a point to keep eye contact with Foster and hoping that the woman got the unspoken message.

"Do you want me to come with you?" Foster asked impressively casually, putting Brett at ease.

"If you want," Brett shrugged as though she didn't care either way. "I won't be out there too long," she said, finding it incredibly difficult to hold in her smile.

"Okay," Foster nodded.

"Will you watch our drinks for us?" Brett asked Kidd, setting them down on a side table. "We'll be right back."

"Sure," Kidd nodded, noting that Kelly wasn't paying any attention to the girls at all.

Brett weaved through the crowd with Foster close behind. When she opened the door she found that it really WAS hot in there and she was happy for the fresh air. She didn't turn around to make sure that Foster was still behind her as she rounded the corner of the building, away from the entrance.

"Where are ya going?" Foster asked, genuinely confused as Brett walked into the alley on the side of Molly's.

Brett turned to the woman with a smirk but no verbal answer. She backed Foster up against the bricks, pressing their bodies together before leaning in to kiss her slowly.

"Oh..." Foster mumbled weakly as the shock wore off and she kissed Brett back with fervor.

The kiss wasn't aggressive; it was slow and passionate, both pouring everything that they were feeling into each other. Brett's hands found Foster's sides easily, moving up her ribcage and pushing her harder into the building as the kiss deepened. Foster had always been used to being the dominate one in relationships. Brett's confidence and control were overwhelming to her, something she didn't know she needed.

Foster weaved her hand into the back of Brett's hair, pulling them even closer together as the woman's hands roamed her body, desperate for their nearness. She tugged just hard enough to force Brett to break their kiss in order to let out a soft moan, intensity taking over her and flowing through her body.

They stared wildly into each other's eyes, breath heavy.

"I just needed to be alone with you," Brett admitted, voice coming out raspy and arousal-laden.

"I've been thinking about this all night," Foster agreed, running her fingertips down Brett's spine to the small of her back. "I needed to touch you."

She leaned down and attached her lips to the column of Brett's throat, teeth nipping as she fed off of every breathy sound the woman made. Brett's hands grazed the sides of Foster's breasts as though they had a mind of their own. Foster pulled away from her neck to look her in the eyes intensely.

"We should go back in," she said suddenly, unable to tear her gaze from Brett's.

"I'm sorry," Brett said nervously, looking away for a minute. "Was that too much? I didn't mean to-"

"No," Foster stopped her, pressing a finger to her lips. "Not too much. But you're driving me wild and I can't handle it here, in an alley. The more you touch me, the more I want you."

Brett trembled at the words, brushing Foster's hair out of her eyes and leaning in for another kiss. Her actions were out of her control at this point. She understood what Foster meant about not being able to handle it and it scared her a little- not enough to stop her.

"I couldn't help it," Brett said sheepishly, running her hand across Foster's stomach as she put some space between them.

"Good," Foster nodded, eyes still fogged over. "I don't want you to hold back. Well, I DO want you to hold back, but only because we're in public," she smirked.

Brett nodded reluctantly and took Foster's hand, pulling it up to her lips and placing a gentle kiss on her knuckles as she led them back to the doorway.

"You needed some air, huh?" Foster joked, bumping her shoulder.

They didn't stop holding hands until they walked in.


	14. Chapter 14

"You feel better?" Kidd asked with a shitty grin as soon as Brett returned and picked up her disregarded drink.

"What do you mean?" Brett asked, although she was pretty sure she knew what her friend meant and eyed her surroundings nervously.

"You said it was hot in here and you needed some air but you look even more hot now," Kidd chuckled at her own joke, watching as Severide, Foster and Herrmann made small talk at the bar, safely out of earshot.

"Why, thank you," Brett winked and pretended that Kidd had simply complimented her, ignoring the innuendo. She laughed at herself because when Kidd said it, it was clearly a joke but when Foster said it she worried that everyone knew they were dating.

"Oh my god, did you have sex?!" Kidd asked suddenly, excitedly, but the bar was still loud with karaoke and anyone that knew them wasn't paying attention.

"Stella, we were outside for like, FIVE minutes!" Brett argued as nonchalantly as possible despite the blush growing upon her face.

"Sometimes five minutes is all it takes," Kidd wagged her eyebrows and clinked glasses with her friend.

"Maybe for you," Brett shot back, looking away quickly as Severide and Foster approached them in the crowd.

"Dick..." Kidd playfully insulted her friend, knowing that unfortunately they had to cut the conversation short with company near.

"Exactly," Brett made her own innuendo, causing Stella to laugh loudly and choke on her drink.

"We're missin' all the fun again," Foster told Severide, assuming that Brett and Kidd were just discussing something Sylvily related but knowing she couldn't admit that.

"Sports or sex?" Severide asked without missing a beat, causing Brett and Kidd to widen their eyes in surprise while Foster just looked lost.

"Sex."

Brett's answer was instant and shocking to all three of her friends. All were immediately intrigued by her sudden boldness.

"Oh yeah? How's that?" Severide asked, instinctively stepping closer to Stella as he spoke. "You got a new guy?"

"Oh, definitely not," Brett shook her head, taking a swig of her whisky. "I was talking about you and Kidd."

crickets

Not one of them, not even Stella, had a response for that. Kelly coughed into his drink. Foster grinned at Brett's spontaneity, knowing that was certainly not what was actually being discussed between the two women. Kidd stared at her in shock (and insult?) because this time Brett actually stepped it up.

"Brett, you know we're just friends now," Severide said calmly, though he took a giant swig of Jack immediately after responding.

"For how long?" Brett asked with a smirk on her face and a wink to boot.

"Jesus," Kelly murmured, rolling his eyes and taking a few steps away, uncomfortably.

"Dude?!" Stella called Brett out loudly; loudly enough that anyone in the vincinity could hear.

"Don't 'Dude' me, Kidd. You've been ragging on me about Emily all night and I owe you," Brett said, not yet angry but beginning to get irritated.

"What?!" Kelly said, back into the conversation in a second after hearing it's reasoning.

"What?" Brett asked weakly, turning red and burning up again but not in a good way.

"I have ears, you know? And I also keep my mouth shut," Kelly told Sylvie, calm despite his embarrassment.

Foster touched Brett's elbow gently, hoping to get her attention for a second long enough for the woman to look her in the eyes; they were currently locked on Kelly and full of fear. Brett turned to Foster for a millisecond, but it was a millisecond long enough for her to realise.

"Hey," Foster said in a mere whisper. "Look at me."

Brett looked into Foster's eyes but away quickly. The sheer panic and terror she felt in that moment trumped any that she had felt at the scene of an accident.

"It's okay..." Foster told her gently, touching her forearm and running it down to her hand (which remained clasped into a fist). "It's just Kelly. The way him and Kidd have been lookin' at each other, she probably already told him."

Okay, so... probably not the best thing to say to Brett at that moment. But Jack brought out honesty from Foster the same way it did from Brett. (And everyone else on the planet, whether they like it or not.)

When Brett turned to her friends, Kelly was already staring. Not in a creepy way, not in a weird way, just clearly lost and slightly inebriated.

"Fuck it."

It was so sudden that Foster (and Kidd) didn't know how to react. Brett took a deep breath, a swig of whisky, and turned to Severide.

"Foster and I are together and it's really new and I would really like to keep it, so could you please keep your mouth shut?" Brett said all in one breath, again shocking all three of them.

"Damn..." Kelly responded, shocked and taking a swig of his drink. "That's awesome."

"Perv!" Stella said, smacking Kelly hard on the chest, insulted for her friends.

"No! Not like that," Kelly insisted and Brett knew he meant it. "I mean it's awesome if they're happy. And you know I won't tell anyone."

Brett smiled because she believed him. Foster frowned because she didn't.

"I just... I don't even want Herrmann to know, even though I trust him with my life," Brett explained with Foster shaking by her side. "I would really like this to just BE, without the firehouse drama."

"You really mean that?" Foster asked in awe and admiration of the girl she was beginning to fall for.

"Completely," Brett smiled, taking Foster's hand subtly.

"Well I'm all in, and not in a perv way," Kelly told them, draping his arm across Stella's shoulders naturally. "I'm totally happy for you and no one needs to know until you want them to."

"Thanks, Kelly. It means a lot," Brett told him, feeling happy tears welling up in her eyes.

"It does. Thanks," Foster nodded, pulling Brett's hand into her own.

"Wait!" Kelly said suddenly as though he had some revelation. "That's why she had the bite mark on her neck!"

Foster chuckled, wide-eyed. Brett just blushed.

XXX

"You okay?" Foster asked softly as they exited Molly's, approaching Brett's car (which she knew she shouldn't be driving).

"Yeah, why?" Brett snapped out too quickly, leaning against her vehicle and looking lost.

"I'm sure outing us to Severide wasn't really in your plans for tonight," she smiled, brushing her fingers over Brett's knuckles subtly.

"It definitely wasn't," Brett side, turning to look at Foster. "But it's over now and honestly, I'm kind of relieved," she smiled, entwining her fingers with Foster's and pulling the woman nearer to her.

"Really?" Foster beamed, bumping Brett's shoulder in order to keep herself from kissing her. "That's so great. You know I don't want to pressure you into anything, but if you think Severide's gonna keep is mouth shut, then I trust him."

Brett shrugged, discomfort evident. Foster raised an eyebrow, silently asking her to divulge.

"You're not upset, right? About us hiding?" Brett asked sadly, watching the array of emotions cross Foster's features. "I don't want you to think I'm embarrassed, or that I need to keep this a secret forever. There's just… a lot, you know?" Foster nodded and allowed Brett to continue. "Last week I didn't even know I liked woman and I just kept telling myself that my attraction to you was fleeting. And now…"

"Sylvie, I totally get it. This really is a lot. That's why I don't want to pressure you. Everyone already knows that I date women so it's easy for me to not care what they think. This is all brand new to you and I respect you needing some time to figure it out," she smiled, brushing the hair away from Brett's face and allowing her hand to linger there.

"I can't believe how understanding you are," Brett smiled in relief. "You're amazing," she said, pulling Foster to her and kissing her softly.

Foster grinned into the kiss and pulled Brett against her, holding her near and taking in the wonder of their time together. Sure, she had dated a lot, but she knew that she had never felt the way she did with Sylvie Brett.

Herrmann locked the door to Molly's and noticed some kids making out against a car on the street. He was about to yell 'get a room!' or something equally obnoxious when he realised that it was Brett's car. And then he realised it was Brett. And Foster.

He walked away, eyes wide and head spinning.


End file.
